


Sharing Sometimes

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, M/M, Slash, The Quidditch Pitch: The Changing Room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-08
Updated: 2006-01-08
Packaged: 2018-10-27 17:35:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10813617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: "But you still feel responsible for her. You still see her sometimes."/"Sometimes. And I see you every single night. There is a clear distinction."





	Sharing Sometimes

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes: Written for [HP Remix](http://www.livejournal.com/community/hp_remix), based on [this drabble](http://www.livejournal.com/community/hp_remix/10446.html#cutid1) by Sophie Richard.  


* * *

Narcissa had perfected the art of casual aloofness long ago. It served her well; with Lucius Kissed and Draco dead, she needed to protect herself at all costs, and the very idea of letting herself show emotion was absolutely abhorrent. If her secret slipped, -- if anyone ever learned she was actually flesh and bone and muscle and sinew, and not chipped from a block of ice -- she'd be done for. She was taught that you kick a dog when it's down, and Narcissa wasn't about to let anyone compare her to a dog. Not with her family history. 

The fireplace flared suddenly, Narcissa not bothering to turn and greet her guest. 

"Severus." 

"Not this time," replied a youthful voice, startling Narcissa. "Good evening, Mrs Malfoy." 

Narcissa shuddered. "Mr Potter, if it please you, I'd rather not go by that name anymore." 

"And if it please you, I'd prefer not to call you by your maiden name." Narcissa dared to look at the boy, who was dusting off his robes, a pained expression on his face. "It brings up unfortunate memories." 

It took her a moment, but once she understood, she gave a curt nod. "Then, you may call me Narcissa. My associates do so, and as you are..." She paused, considering her words. "...an associate of one of my associates, I suppose it might be fitting." 

The boy's shoulders sagged just an inch, visibly relaxing, and he sighed. "Call me Harry. Everyone else does." 

Narcissa arched an eyebrow. "Even..." 

"Yes," Harry interrupted. "Even him." 

"Well," she said, her mouth arranged in a straight line, "he calls me by my first name, too." 

"I'd imagine so." His reply was so soft, she had to strain to hear him. 

Narcissa sat in one of the high-back chairs near the Floo grate, gesturing to the other so Harry might join her. After he did so, she regarded him silently until he started squirming in his seat, darting nervous glances at his hands, her dress, the floor, the bookshelves -- essentially, anywhere that wasn't her eyes. Finally, Narcissa cleared her throat, and Harry's head snapped straight up, a fearful expression plastered on his face. Like prey, she thought to herself. "Now Harry, I know you're not here to look after my health, so please do me the favour of giving me an honest answer: What exactly are you doing here? And, more importantly, how did you even get here? The access to this room is very... specific." 

Harry nearly ran one hand through his hair, stopping abruptly as though he didn't like being caught at it. Narcissa couldn't fathom why. "Getting suspicions confirmed, I suppose," he sighed. "And telling you that I'm okay with it. I mean... he and I, we're not... er, exclusive or anything and I know how much he means to you. What you mean to him." 

"And the Floo?" 

"Ah. Uh, well, I watched him. He didn't realise I was nearby. I knew where he was going before he went, of course. I always know, even though he pretends like I don't. Mostly, I pretend like I don't, too." Harry paused, taking several shallow breaths as though willing himself to calm. She hoped he wouldn't faint; not only did she have no idea what to do in that type of situation, but she didn't know if she cared enough about his well-being to do anything if she had known. It wouldn't do to have an unconscious Harry Potter in her sitting room, after all. "I listened to the wording of your house name and the password that followed. I just guessed that I could only do it from the Floo in his rooms. Am I right?" 

Narcissa nodded. "And thank yourself, as you've taught me a valuable lesson. The next time I desire exclusive company, I'll make sure only that person can join me." 

Still looking vaguely nauseated, Harry stood quickly. "I-- I'm sorry. I just came to tell you that I don't mind what you and Severus do. And, uh, now I've told you, so I'll just be go--" 

"You mean, it doesn't bother you that I can describe every one of his moles, freckles, and vague imperfections? Does it bother you that I discovered his most ticklish places before you were even born, or that my husband -- yes, _him_ \-- was the first to discover his incredible, raw talent? That the two of us have made love countless times on the very rug on which you're currently standing?" Harry jumped back a bit, landing on the stone cobbling of the fireplace. "It bothers _me_ quite a lot. I rather hate you, _Harry_ , and I don't give my blessing, permission, or whatever rot you came here to give. I suppose that makes you a bigger man than me." She laughed at her own joke; it was a sweet laugh -- flirtatious, almost girlish, and didn't fit her at all. 

Harry paused, one foot in the grate. "I fall asleep in his arms every night." 

"Do you?" she asked, her expression guarded, eyes cold. "Well, I..." 

***

Harry stumbled through the Floo again, completely unnerved by Narcissa's final words. Eyes flashing, he scooped up the nearest breakable and heaved it across the room, deriving some small degree of satisfaction when it smashed into a million, billion pieces. Any euphoria he might have felt was immediately dispelled when a figure emerged from the shadows, robes flapping behind him. 

"Welcome back." Severus's voice was surprisingly calm, and Harry suspected he might be on the verge of laughter. That was wrong for so many reasons that Harry's anger flared again instantly. "However, I'd prefer it if you didn't destroy my property, Mr Potter." 

"Harry," he hissed, wondering if every subsequent thing would make him angrier and angrier. "You call me Harry now, remember? Besides, that wasn't yours; it was mine. Like I'm going to dare break something of the great Severus Snape, when I have perfectly good possessions of my own. I occasionally keep things here, you know." 

"Then, don't make a mess when you're here. You should know better than that, _Harry_." 

Harry wished everyone would stop pronouncing his name like it was some kind of sarcastic retort. Was it really so bad to want to be called by his first name instead of some stupid honorarium? Sending his best glare in Severus's direction (which, admittedly, didn't rate when used against The Man With the Laser Beam Eyes), he flicked his wand and muttered " _Scourgify_ ," causing the glass shards to disappear. 

"Where were you?" Severus wasn't accusing, merely curious. 

"Is that really any of your business?" 

"Considering that these are my private rooms, and it is from my private fireplace from which you emerged, I'd say yes, this is my business." 

Harry crossed his arms across his chest and lifted his chin defiantly. Fine. This was how Severus wanted to play things? He could play. "I was visiting with Narcissa Malfoy." 

Severus let out such a snort that Harry was quite sure he must have broken something with that giant nose of his. The bastard was _amused_. "And how did that go?" Severus asked innocently. 

"Not well," Harry admitted, deflating again. "You might want to check with her before popping over there again; I think she said something about exclusive company. Somehow, I don't think I'm quite included in that." 

Before he knew it, a warm pair of arms had enveloped him from behind. He felt the other man's chin graze the top of his head, and Harry slumped further, feeling some of his anger drain away. "And why did you feel you needed to go and see her?" 

"Because... because I wanted her to know that I was all right with what you two do together." Harry closed his eyes, his stomach tightening again. Liar, liar, chanted a voice in the back of his head. 

"How very... mature of you." 

"Don't make fun." 

"I wasn't." Severus spun him around then, kissing him deeply and turning him into a Harry-shaped puddle. Any pretence of anger was gone, replaced only by hurt, loneliness, and need. Definitely need. 

Once they broke apart, Harry -- whose voice was already a little ragged -- asked, "Why do you need to see her?" 

"I don't see her often." 

"Sometimes, though." 

"Yes, sometimes." Severus, if anything, looked a bit embarrassed, two circles of colour staining his sallow cheeks. 

"Then why sometimes?" 

"Because she has no one else. Harry, we've talked about this before; she and I have had an arrangement for years. Before you were--" 

"Born, yes," Harry said tiredly. "She mentioned that, too. Along with detailing what happens on her carpet." 

"No wonder you're so livid." Severus, amazingly, didn't seem the least bit exasperated. If Harry hadn't known any better, he would have said that Severus had been _expecting_ this conversation. 

Sighing, Harry said, "No, that part I'd pretty much worked out for myself. I mean, we've talked about it, like you said, and I went there for confirmation, but with her saying it straight out like that I had to admit it's actually happening, which is silly, because I already knew, but you'd never actually said it so bluntly, just implied it, and oh God, will you please stop me from talking now?" 

Severus made that snorting noise again, something that Harry was having trouble equating with laughter, and silenced Harry with another kiss. This one was firmer, Severus coaxing his lips apart with his tongue, exploring every inch of Harry's mouth as though it was the first time they'd ever done this. As their tongues circled slowly around one another's, Harry unsuccessfully tried suppressing a whimper, making Severus smile against Harry's mouth. He didn't smile often, but it usually related to enjoying Harry's latest embarrassment or the triumph that accompanied turning Harry into putty in his hands. 

Or not quite putty, Harry thought with a groan, as a hand worked its way to the front of his robes, roughly rubbing him through the fabric. "You know, we weren't done talking," he murmured reluctantly against Severus's jaw. 

Severus pulled his hand away and took a step back, one eyebrow arched. This time, he looked a bit annoyed. "Can this not wait until later?" 

"I..." Harry remembered what Narcissa held over him, about what had been troubling him since the second he stepped through the grate. Well, a good Gryffindor would at least try to go after what he was missing -- level the playing field, as it were. Making up his mind, Harry licked his lips and threw Severus against the nearest bookcase, startling the man. "Yes, it can wait until later." 

He could have used his wand. With a flick of his wrist, Severus's robes would have been open and pooled around his ankles, but there were just some things he liked doing by hand. Harry supposed it could be attributed to being raised by Muggles, but that meant associating sex with the Dursleys, something which -- as he suppressed a shiver -- Harry definitely didn't want to do. The truth was, he decided, that he simply liked using his hands. 

Severus's robes were torn from his body, a satisfying ripping noise accompanying the action. If the robes couldn't be mended properly, the other man would be pissed off later on, but right now, Harry didn't particularly care. And judging by his dilated pupils and the way he was gasping for breath, neither did Severus. 

Sinking to his knees, Harry pulled down Severus's pants as he went -- complicated muslin things with far too many buttons and ties. "Christ, haven't wizards ever heard of elastic?" He smiled up, before sucking just the head of the other man's cock into his mouth. 

Severus gasped, running his fingers through Harry's soft, messy hair, pulling just a bit to get Harry to take more into his mouth. "You know," he panted, still trying to sound composed, "that joke gets less and -- _yes_ \-- amusing every time you tell it. And it wasn't -- _oh!_ \-- it wasn't very funny the first time." 

"Ooh lof iht." 

"Terrible manners." 

Harry pulled back, sitting back on his haunches. "Excellent technique, though, right?" He licked his way up and back down the erection, bringing a hand up to cup Severus's balls, then wrapping his hand firmly around the base of his cock. 

Severus was grabbing at the shelves now, knocking several books to the floor, something else that would horrifying him later on, but for now he seemed to be completely concentrating on fucking Harry's mouth. With some difficulty, he managed, "Learned from the best," which unfortunately brought to mind Severus being taught everything he knew from Lucius Malfoy. 

Harry, however, was determined not to let that deter him, and began sucking harder and faster, moaning wantonly, encouraging the older man to pull at his hair and set the pace. Severus gave a final shout, and heat flooded Harry's mouth. Feeling happier for reasons he couldn't quite explain, he brought Severus down from his orgasm, revelling in each shiver and whimper he heard. 

Pulling himself back to his feet, Harry leaned in for another kiss, letting Severus taste himself on Harry's lips, pressing his still-hard cock against Severus's thigh. "Bed now?" he asked breathily, leading the other man into the next room before waiting for an answer. 

Sometime later, the two found each other impossibly entwined in a tangle of legs and arms. Severus was running his fingers through Harry's hair, bestowing kisses along his jaw and neck. 

"So, will I see you tomorrow?" 

Harry might have been imagining it, but he thought he detected a note of worry in Severus's voice. "Haven't you every night for over a year now?" 

"I suppose it takes time to get over the fact that you'd rather spend your evenings with someone you once hated than some soft pillow of a woman, all curves and pouty lips." 

Harry laughed softly, running his fingers lightly along a bony, pale hip. "I don't think I'm the soft pillow type. Besides," he added, allowing a note of bitterness to creep into his voice, "that sounds much more like you." 

"Are we back on that?" Severus said, disentangling himself from Harry. "There are things Slytherins do --" 

"-- together that would make my hair stand on end. Yes. I know. And you have to see her. I get it. She's part of your life. I just wish she wasn't." 

"I fall asleep with you every night." 

Harry tugged on Severus's hand. "And you're gone every morning." 

"Harry," Severus protested, "you know how my schedule is, and some people who don't need to work like to lounge in bed until all hours --" 

Anger flaring again, Harry burst out, "You know that's not true!" Instantly, his voice softened again. "Stay." 

"I wo --" 

" _Stay._ " 

Without answering, Severus nudged Harry so he could curl around the younger man's back. He hadn't agreed, Harry knew his tactics hadn't worked, but he felt himself drifting off to sleep anyway, presumably safe in Severus's arms. 

The next morning, the spot next to him was cold. Resigned, Harry pulled himself out of bed to gather his clothes and make a quick escape. He could try again tonight. 

***

_Harry paused, one foot in the grate. "I fall asleep in his arms every night."_

_"Do you?" she asked, her expression guarded, eyes cold. "Well, I..."_

"... wake up with him sometimes. When he comes here, he stays. I get to see him first thing in the morning, get to wake up with him wrapped around my body. Can you claim that?" 

She knew. Harry, unnerved, stumbled into the fireplace and was whisked back to Severus's rooms. 

He wanted to break things. 


End file.
